


Song-spark

by korbal



Series: Songs of the North [2]
Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, I love all the tribes but the Banuk are special to me, just some chill character/worldbuilding exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korbal/pseuds/korbal
Summary: Followup to a previous oneshot.A bit of machine-talk was all Aloy had expected after returning Tuktu to his werak. But a music lesson?
Series: Songs of the North [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022626
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Song-spark

Aloy and Tuktu arrived while the Riverknife Banuk were taking the evening’s hunt off the roasting spits. The mood noticeably lifted as the werak welcomed their elder shaman home. For her part, the huntress was greeted with appreciative nods. This was all she really wanted after a job well done - a comfortable medium between “ignored” and “smothered.” And a place at the fireside didn’t hurt, either.

The warm food did its part in quieting the camp into sleepy contentment. Aloy and Tuktu resisted this for a time, chatting animatedly while they compared gear and observations about machine behavior. A few children came around before their bedtime to add wood to the dimming fires, for the adults who were not yet interested in retiring. Those who did remain dipped their mugs into steaming pots for some sort of mulled cider, sighing clouds of contented steam for the frigid breeze to whisk away.

Tuktu leaned over and elbowed Aloy. The playful gesture caught her off guard, given his general gruffness to this point. “Hey. Would you like to learn a song?”

“A… song?” Her stomach dropped and a protest started spilling out. “I - I don’t know if I can make those kinds of soun-”

“No no, girl,” the shaman laughed. “Not the machine songs. _Could_ try to teach you one if you really wish, just not too useful anymore. I meant one of _our_ songs.”

“There’s a difference? Doesn’t your people believe the machines are a more perfect form of… life, I guess?”

Tuktu hesitated, fixing piercing gray eyes on Aloy. Her guts prickled with anxiety that she’d said something offensive, but after a moment he lowered his head in a conceding nod. “That does strike close, but we do not pretend to _be_ machines, huntress. We only strive to hold the Blue Light within ourselves, as they do. Every creature has its own sound by nature, and so ours too is different. We echo the machine-songs often within our own to honor them, just in a way that is less difficult for us to sing.”

Aloy pondered this, but Tuktu was immediately at it again, nudging her conspiratorially with his elbow. “So. How about it?”

“Uh.” She adjusted her sitting position, weighing her words carefully. “I… would love to _hear_ one. Just haven’t done much in the way of singing, myself.”

The old man’s jaw went slack. “ _No_ singing? But… do the Nora not sing at festivals? Mating ceremonies? Funerals?”

Aloy shrugged, restlessly tugging her scarf higher against the chill. “I mean, they had music at the one festival I went to? I grew up an outcast though, so… didn’t see much of that in person. My... er, the man who raised me didn’t really sing, either. He whistled a bit, but my lips just won’t do that. Can only do the-” She mimed using her fingers for signal-whistling.

Tuktu was silent at first, an expression of genuine pity overtaking his face. Inexplicably, Aloy longed to be anywhere else. She crossed her arms over her knees, averting her gaze into the fire. Frustrating. She had once fantasized about _anyone_ other than Rost giving a rusted shard about her, but every time she had received it in the months since the Proving, she just couldn’t meet it like a normal person. Instead this weird panic always flared up, as if she was leaving herself open for attack.

The awkwardness of the silence became unbearable, though, and she turned back to grin crookedly at the old man. “I guess what I mean is… I might be a poor student. But hey, if you want to take a shot.”

Tuktu’s heavy mitt clapped her shoulder and she flinched. “I’ll give you a good one. Simple to sing, but one that any Banuk worth their spear knows well. But first, let’s see where you’re starting. Match me.” He sang out a clear tenor note, one he knew should be within her range.

Feeling silly, Aloy cleared her throat and after a couple false starts had a note going herself. It was rough in tone and wavered a bit, but she was at least able to steer it to match Tuktu’s pitch. He cut his note short and nodded thoughtfully, leaving her alone for half a second before she hastily quieted.

“Not bad - your ear is decent at least. Everything else will get smoother with practice.”

Aloy fidgeted with a cable on her left bracer. “Heh. Sure. And the song…?”

“Patience!” Tuktu chided. “Banuk have used this one for generations as a pacesetting song while traveling. Also a good icebreaker when unfamiliar weraks gather. We may stick with our smaller families most of the time, but this is one of the songs that Banuk share as a tribe.”

While Aloy digested the intriguing song-as-social-tool idea, Tuktu began to hum, drumming on his knees. Once he established a marching tempo, he launched full-throated into the song:

_Steel song, blue glow_

_Spot well the tracks; stay on the trail!_

_Scale rocks, break snow_

_The Light shines true; survive, prevail!_

A weathered hunter on the other side of the fire cut in partway through, but she started at the beginning, overlapping the lyrics. Another joined at the next line, and soon most in the circle but Aloy were singing. She listened in fascination at the way the song harmonized with itself. It seemed strangely familiar - had they done something like this in Mother’s Heart? Or was it something she had heard in Meridian somewhere?

Tuktu prodded her as he started another round, raising his bushy eyebrows in a clear “Well?” signal.

Aloy hesitated, not confident in any part of this. The tune was the easiest to follow, so she hummed along at first. After making it through one cycle, she summoned the courage to fully join in. It was stumbling and awkward, and her voice didn’t always land on the note she had aimed for, but she was figuring out the words quickly.

It wasn’t much longer before the group, satisfied with the session, broke off into hoarse cheers and swigs of cider. There was something pleasant about the flavor of silence that followed. It was _comfortable_ , the company of the others almost a physical thing she could feel. Aloy had noticed two or three of the singers flashing her a grin after it ended, which she was hesitant to read too far into. She knew she didn’t really _belong_. But it seemed to her that they appreciated her participation, and that felt good.

Tuktu eyed the bottom of his empty mug, finally setting it against the stone fire-ring with a sigh. This gave way to growls and groans as he forced his aging frame into an upright position. “Welp,” he grunted. “I’m turning in. Appreciate the save, and the chat. For one so young, you have learned much.”

 _And I only had time for a tiny part of it_ , thought Aloy, but she grinned and offered an open hand. “I could always try to bring you an overriding component like the one I have, for you to test out. I’ll probably be back this way before long.”

Tuktu didn’t respond right away. First he fixed an intense gaze on Aloy herself, then turned his face up to where splashes of blue-green light could be seen behind the thinning clouds. At last, he closed his eyes and shook his head firmly. “No need. I… want to learn more, but the machine it comes from that you describe - the ‘Corruptor.’ That is darkness I’m not sure I want to dabble in. Your ‘overridden’ machines cannot understand the songs, and perhaps that corruption has something to do with it. But maybe, knowing this much is _possible_ will help me find a better way.”

 _Good luck_ , Aloy sighed internally, dropping her hand back into her lap. _The only way the machines return to their old selves is if I figure out how to fix an entire ancient AI by myself._ But she nodded. “I understand. Thanks for teaching me one of your songs.”

“...Keep practicing,” the old shaman chuckled.


End file.
